Loyalties
by RosyRose1345
Summary: The love triangle after ten years. Completed, plus an epilogue!
1. Chapter 1

A woman dressed in a mustard-coloured velvet dress, holding a white wine glass, gazed half-heatedly at the ice sculpture in front of her.

Looking at the impressively shaped six-foot tall artwork, her gaze languorously smoothed over the subtle shape of the figure.

It was Poseidon, she decided, noticing the large trident in the Greek god's hands.

She remembered how deeply the myth of Medusa Gorgon had moved her back in the high-school days. In the story, Medusa was a beautiful priestess serving at the temple of Athena, the god of war. Poseidon, seduced by the maiden's beauty, had forced himself on her in the holy house.

Enraged, Athena punished Medusa for desanctifying her temple by turning her into a grotesque monster with a nest of snakes adorning her head. She was cursed with a deathly glare that petrified all men who looked into her eyes, encountering the abyss of heartbreak and terror.

Misaki rolled her eyes at the obvious direction of her thoughts. Way to make the goddamn ice sculpture about yourself, Ayuzawa. Years ago, since her father had deserted her family, her distrust towards the male sex had not been much different from the mythical creature's. Also, Misaki thought amusedly, her hair was getting long enough to be considered a nest of snakes as well.

As a teenager she had come a long way to re-evaluate her prejudices and learn to relate to men again. She had been lucky to have gotten a fair amount of assistance in that at the time, she thought grimly.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an applause that broke out around her. A quintet band had been playing soft bluesy tune on a mildly elevated platform. Misaki sighed softly and turned her back to the ice sculpture. She clapped along awkwardly, her wine glass getting in the way.

"What a night," she murmured under her breath and took in the scene displayed in front of her .

Other guests were clearly enjoying themselves more than herself, she noticed.

Statuesque women and elegant men talking and tittering in subdued tones as the gigantic candle chandelier swarmed the room in a sensuous subtle atmosphere. Really, Misaki thought. A candle chandelier? So predictable and cliched for a pseudo high-art scene.

The exhibition was displaying artwork by a promising young artist Hayama, an old friend of Shintani's. The show celebrated modern Tokyo's urban culture. Scattered across the walls of the gigantic gallery were the blow-outs displaying bus-stands, busy streets, squares showing people minding their business.

Misaki had barely endured the cavalcade of Tokyo snobs nodding knowingly at the black-and-white photographs "portraying the angst of fragmented post-modernity and indifference".

Not her thing, but she had been unable to turn Shintani down when he begged her to accompany her. Begged? More like seduced her into it, Misaki thought and took another sip of her drink.

* * *

 **In the apartment**

''He will kill me if I miss his first exhibition'', Shintani said as he dragged her suitcase into their bedroom.

Misaki kicked off her stilettos with a small sigh of relief and turned to face him.

He had just propped her luggage against the wall and was now taking off his thick jacket, revealing his muscular chest. Somebody had been working out in her absence, Misaki could not help thinking appreciatively.

''I know, but I'm just back from a twelve-hour flight," she said, slumping down on bed, unbuttoning the top of her shirt, "The last conference absolutely drained me, I'm exhausted..", her voice trailing off.

Even as she said these words, she knew she would give in. A month ago she had been obliged to abruptly leave to Switzerland for work and ended up missing Shintani's birthday as well as their seven-year anniversary. She was in no position to turn him down now, she had to admit to herself.

Meanwhile Shintani had been shrewdly observing her face. The years of companionship had made him an expert of her facial expressions. After all Misaki had always been so transparent, her features so eloquently reflecting her inner dialogues and emotions.

He was always blown away by the complete change her personality underwent in her professional life, wherein she adopted a reserved, steely demeanor.

It was, however, a mere facade which her career demanded. How could a human rights' lawyer breeze through that unforgiving world - as successfully as Misaki did - with her genuine personality?

With him and around those she loved Misaki was an honest, generous and earnest person; but in the world of law she was a fierce, determined go-getter. Such a polarity of her identity and her superhuman ability to smoothly maneuver between the two lives never failed to render him speechless with awe.

"So, is that a yes?" he drawled with a smirk, approaching her at the bottom of their bed where she half-sat, propped up on her elbows.

"Keep smirking at me like that and it'll turn into a no", Misaki's eyes followed his movements. He knelt in front of her, his face shifting into a sweet, yet cautious smile,

Slowly, with his eyes never leaving hers, he slid her skirt with his large palms up her legs, to her thighs, his hands finally resting on her hips.

Misaki's breath hitched, her glare turning darker. Shintani's smile widened as he pressed his thumbs in the indentation below her hipbones.

He knew her weak spots, the way the skin on her hips was particularly sensitive. He knew his firm grip on them always gave her a delicious sense of helplessness. Whenever they made love, he would dig his fingers fiercely into those spots, while observing her face to gauge out her reaction. Right on cue, like clockwork, she would gasp and arch her back.

Misaki did not like being manipulated, but as she observed Shintani's face disappear between her thighs, she let go and laid back. Feeling his warm breath against her most sensitive spot, she stroked his brown hair with one hand and inhaled sharply.

* * *

 **At the exhibition**

Misaki felt a pair of arms snaking around her waist in a confident embrace. She turned her head sideways and rested her cheek on his, without wavering her gaze from the band.

"I've paid my dues. We can go now, if you like", murmured Shintani and planted an apologetic kiss below her ear.

Her lovely face, he observed, looked slightly pinched up from fatigue, her smoky eyelids slightly lowered. He could tell her mind was swimming from exhaustion. The tired expression on her face, however, added ten-fold to the insane attraction he felt for her.

"Don't worry, this isn't so bad", lied Misaki and smiled reassuringly. A white lie, because at least the music was soothing and the wine was excellent.

She finally turned to face him and saw him looking at her mouth. She was wearing burgundy red lipstick, which accentuated the liquid shine of her thin mustard dress.

Shintani found momentarily overwhelmed by his desire for her. He stroked her back and brought their bodies closer until her chest subtly grazed his.

"Lets go home", he murmured and smiled when Misaki complacently put her glass on the table in silent agreement.

* * *

From the other end of the room a tall blond man had been observing the small intimate moment, his hair shadowing his face. His gaze followed them, as they walked discreetly to the door, the woman's high heels clicking against the marble floor. After they disappeared, he twirled his whiskey inside his glass and quickly gulped it down.


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't care how much pressure you're under, get it done!"

A tall woman clad in a light gray suit yelled down her phone as she walked from the hotel's revolving door to the car waiting for her.

Upon returning from Switzerland she had found her firm to be in a complete mess. Another company had been taking advantage of her absence, trying to steal their clients.

All day she had been trying to smooth out the problems her employers had managed to scramble up.

Misaki smoothly sank into the car and shot a curt distracted smile at the driver closing the door for her.

It had already been a day and she still was feeling jet lagged.

Looking out of the window, her gaze landed wistfully on a couple of chattering girls sitting at the stairs of the building, eating from bento boxes.

Hopefully Shintani would have some dinner waiting for her. She was starving.

She knew he was just as busy as her, but his cooking skills were far more superior. After the whole day of dealing with people, Misaki did not feel like eating out. All she wanted was the warmth and comfort of her home.

It was a hot day. Misaki rolled down the window to the hilt and took off her suit. Stealing a furtive glance from the driver, she loosened the top four buttons of her white shirt, nearly revealing her black lace bra. She was relieved to see the driver's attention remained focused on the road, though she did not particularly care if he would consider her inappropriate.

It was simply too hot. Feeling slightly more relaxed, she took the hairpin out to release the painful bun her hair had been in all day.

She finally relaxed in her seat, leaning her head against the seat, eyes closed. Even behind her closed eyelids, she could feel the golden light of the sunset. This was her favourite time of the day.

The car stopped at the red light.

Misaki, without opening her eyes, turned her face to the slight breeze that was blowing from the open window.

It was good to be home, she thought, and took a deep and slow breath through her nose, smiling contentedly.

A car honked loudly behind them. Disturbed from her quiet bliss, Misaki lazily opened her eyes and froze in her seat.

Her gaze was met by a pair of green eyes. She blanched.

He was standing on the pavement with two other men, with his hands inside his pockets.

His eyes did not move away from hers. His expression unreadable, yet intense as she remembered it.

She sat there in the same position, the earlier smile slowly melting away from her face. All thoughts deserted her brain, her head suddenly feeling like a jar of jam.

Misaki opened her mouth in an attempt to say something, anything, even though she knew he was too far to hear her unless she yelled.

No sound came out, she just moved her mouth like a fish, before clamping it shut.

Without excusing himself from his companions who had been talking to him, without as much as casting them a glance, he moved. He took his hands out of his pockets and started walking hastily in her direction.

Misaki finally felt sensation return to her body and quickly sat up, trying to think what to do, how to react.

The traffic light turned green and the car started to move. Panicking, she rested a hand on the edge of the open window. Her throat made a strange croaky sound.

"St..", she blurted out at her driver, her voice breaking in the middle of the word.

She looked back helplessly at the pavement. His steps had accelerated at first, but as the car kept distancing from him, he stopped to stand there, still looking at her face, and then - in her direction.

"Ma'am?", a polite voice shook Misaki out of her reverie, "Were you saying something to me?"

She sank into her seat, eyes closing shut again.

Suddenly she felt nothing.

"No, nothing."

 **At the apartment**

Her hands gripped the sheets, her knuckles turning white.

"Oh god", she half whispered half-moaned. She felt him accelerate the speed of his movements, encouraged by her reaction.

After dinner Misaki had known that there was only one way to stop Shintani's concerned are-you-okay's. She could not stand having his worried eyes follow her every move during the supper.

She had tried her best to keep up the conversation and make herself look alive, but she knew the blank expression remained etched on her face.

Finally she had sealed his lips with a kiss to shut him up. She needed to forget.

No, she needed to take her mind off the earlier incident.

She could never forget, she could never forget _him_ , but she could distract herself.

All these years she had successfully managed to do it.

Now they were in bed, her on her knees and hands, as Shintani moved in and out sensually, languorously, knowing what she liked.

She had chosen this position so that he would not see the pained expression on her face, see the guilt.

Why was she feeling guilty?

As she felt her stomach gradually knot up, a horrible thought struck her. Was her desire directed to her boyfriend or was it ignited by her earlier encounter with.. him?

No. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to concentrate. Don't think of him. Don't even think of his name. Think of Shintani. Focus on him gripping your hips. Feel his love.

Yes.

She could feel herself nearing the climax. She focused her mind on the best memories she had with Shintani. The way his tongue and fingers had made her scream over and over again before the exhibition the day before.

That day had seemed so carefree, so wonderful compared to now. So faraway.

Stop this. You love him. He loves you. Nothing is wrong. It has been ten years.

She felt his hands grip her hips.

Not enough.

"More", she spat out through her gritted teeth. Shintani's hands tightened even more and through the veil of passion wondered if this was going to hurt her. He knew she would be bruised the next day, marked by him.

The thought almost put him over the edge.

"Misaki", he hissed and lowered his torso, his chest caressing her back. This allowed him to nuzzle her neck, whisper in her ear. Suddenly he needed more. He knew something was wrong the minute he had opened the door for her that evening. The color had been drained from her face and she looked so forlorn it had made his heart squeeze.

"Please, Misaki, look at me", he pleaded with a groan into her ear and tried to turn her face to his with one hand.

She just moaned and dug her face more deeply into the mattress.

"Shintani.. Keep going", he could hear her muffled voice. He deepened his movements, rolling his hips against her backside.

Slowly perching up on his knees again, he showered her with kisses. His lips nipped away at the distance from her neck down to her waist, where, unable to resist, he bit down.

That very second he felt her freeze.

"Stop!"

She violently recoiled from him, crawling to the bedpost on all fours. She was breathing heavily, almost wheezing. Shintani could not speak, puzzled.

A heavy minute passed.

"Misaki?", he asked cautiously. He knew his bite had not been hard enough to hurt her. After all she had always liked him giving her bites on her neck and her chest. But now, as he watched her crouching at the opposite end of the bed, as faraway from him as possible, he felt completely at loss.

She wrapped her arms around her propped-up knees and put her face between them.

He had bitten her exactly _there_. Goddammit. What were the chances he would do it on the day she had bumped into _him_?

The second he had bitten her waist, her strained focus had shattered to pieces, and she was deluged with flashbacks.

She remembered the smell of the ocean.

The walk on the beach with him.

The fireworks and the longing.

She had been so confused then. Too young to even know what love, let alone physical desire felt like.

But she did now.

When she had seen him looking at her from the sidewalk, she knew it. She felt the ache deep inside her. But had she not forgotten her? The realization had sent her body into an utter shock, voiding it of all feeling in the moment.

But here she was now. Having sex with her boyfriend and trying to not think of Takumi.

Misaki smiled bitterly.

Takumi. There, she had finally let his name resonate inside her head.

He had looked so dashing, standing on the sidewalk in his black suit. All the boyish playfulness gone from his face. His body looked still lithe and panther-like, but his face was harder, more angular and serious.

"I can't fight this", thought Misaki, tears filling her eyes. She could not keep him out of her head.

She looked up and saw Shintani kneeling helplessly before her, gazing at her with a pained expression.

For a moment they looked at each other like a couple of strangers. At least to her in that moment he felt like a complete stranger. He could be anybody. He could be somebody.

"Lay on your back", she whispered. Just this once, she thought and tried to ignore the intense feeling of self-hatred.

She mounted him.

His hands ran up and down her thighs in comfort, feeling relieved she had come around.

But her eyes were closed, not once looking at him as her movements deepened.

Misaki threw her head back. She had given in. As she rode Shintani, she thought of the figure on the pavement, his face, his reaction upon seeing her.

"Ah!", she leaned her hands on Shintani's chest and rocked faster, her movements turning frantic. This time she indulged herself with the thoughts. The fantasy. Imagining that the person giving her so much pleasure right now was not Shintani, but him. That the member against which her drenched alcove made that erotic sounds was his.

She imagined his strong neck, his strong shoulders.

"Oh god", she cried as the most intense orgasm of her life shook her all over, shattering her soul.

* * *

Later, Shintani held her, gently spooning her.

She was still sweaty, he observed.

Closing his eyes, he buried his nose into her hair and inhaled deeply. He had never seen her like that, so wild. Yet, Shintani thought with a pang of pain, she had seemed so distant. As she had screamed her lungs out, her eyes tightly shut, face upturned to the ceiling, her mind was elsewhere.

He tightened his grip around her and tried to vacate his head. He had asked her what was wrong, but she had simply shaken her head and sniffed.

He could hear her even now, crying silently with her face out of his sight. And he did not know what to do.

He would simply keep holding her, he decided. Maybe tomorrow he would get some answers and her – some peace of mind from whatever was troubling her.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews! They're very encouraging.

* * *

She dipped the spoon into her bowl of muesli and took a big mouthful.

Crunching on her morsel, she looked over the sun-rise from the thirteenth store window with narrowed eyes.

She gulped down.

"Enough."

Her clear voice resounded around the empty room.

Having gotten a good share of sleep last night, she had awoken with a lucid mind in the morning.

She had planted a kiss on Hinata's pink cheek and left the room to clear her thoughts.

Auyzawa prided herself to be a rational, methodic person. And that was exactly how she was going to deal with the last night's happening.

First of all, she had been tired and agitated all day, she explained to herself. Being back to Japan had taken a serious physical toll on her body.

And then she had seen Usui, after years and years. Of course, everything had added up and led to the mini mental breakdown in the evening.

But she was fine now. In fact, she did not even feel guilty any more.

She was certain of her unshakable love for her boyfriend, and the last night's.. digression had been the result of series of the aforementioned unfortunate events.

Misaki had made her resolve. The fact was that Usui was back in town and she needed to talk to him.

Not to get closure, no, but to tell him things that had been weighing on her mind for years. After all, both of them were adults now. They would sit and she would tell him what she had to say. It was only fair.

Ever since Kanou had revealed the truth, she had been overcome by a heavy blow of mixed emotions, but she was fine now. Life was not a movie and she believed that people grew out even the most intense attachments.

Content with the logic, Misaki took another spoonful of muesli and walked back to the adjoined kitchen.

Kanou. She took her phone from the kitchen counter and searched out the number of her old friend and her only link to Usui.

* * *

The doors of the elevator opened and as soon as Misaki stepped out, she saw him waiting for her at the open door.

Somehow, he did not seem surprised to see her. But he had had few minutes to prepare himself.

Getting the information of his whereabouts from Kanou had been easy. He had been back from Britain for a week already, she learnt from Kanou, and they had even dined together at the hotel where he was staying. He had been always a very perceptive person, Kanou, and he had immediately understood her reasons for wanting to see him. After all, she thought, he had been the one to reveal the truth about Usui to her five years ago.

The receptionist at the hotel had called Usui in the room to check if the unannounced woman - although unarguably breathtaking - was welcome by the highly-esteemed guest. The phone conversation had lasted ten seconds, the receptionist's question being cut short after he had uttered her last name.

"He is expecting you, Miss Ayuzawa", he had said, somewhat flustered and told her the number of his room.

There they were now, facing each other.

Even though his smile did not touch his eyes, his body seemed relaxed enough - leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed - for her to know that at least he did not hate seeing her.

No greetings were exchanged, hands were not shaken. Somehow all the rituals seemed unnecessary and artificial.

Neither broke the eye-contact. Gone were the days when Misaki would have blushed fervently under his gaze, whenever he gave her that look.

"I got the address from Kanou", said Misaki finally. She was glad her voice sounded clear and strong.

"I know". His voice was deeper. She shifted her weight on another leg.

He turned sideways to the door and made a casual gesture with his hand, inviting her in.

Following him inside the room, she used the opportunity to observe him closely. He was wearing his glasses, was barefoot and his shirt was open at the collar.

His face was unreadable, the thin smile still lingering on his lips.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Ayuzawa," he motioned her to sit down on the large couch, as he poured down amber drink in two glasses.

He had not even asked her if she wanted one. She scowled slightly, but gratefully took the glass from his hand, taking great care to not graze his skin.

Finally he sat down at the opposite end of the couch, one foot tucked under him. The vague smile on his face was replaced by an openly curious expression, as his eyes finally focused on hers.

Ayuzawa tried to mildly smile in a friendly manner. She needed this to happen in the least dramatic way possible. She needed to say everything as it was, with as little emotion as possible.

"I wanted to talk to you. About what happened."

Usui's eyes flickered away from hers for a split second. His thumb outlined the edge of his glass contemplatively.

She waited for him to answer, but he simply nodded slightly.

"The thing is, Takumi", her use of his first name managed to focus his slightly startled eyes back to her face, just as she had intended.

"I know everything. I know why you disappeared ten years ago."

His hand on the back of the couch closed into a loose fist.

"And I'm here to say thank you."

* * *

A/N

What happened ten years ago? What did Kanou reveal to Misaki?

Just few things I want to explain: my intention in this story is to envisage the characters as real humans. Flawed, imperfect, with ambivalent emotions and insecurities. Thus nothing like the ''superheroes'' presented in the manga/anime.

I've always been intrigued by the love triangle between Hinata, Misaki and Usui, and in fact wondered how things would have played out if she'd ended up with loyal, earnest Hinata. However, I'm an ardent Misaki-Usui shipper myself.

Please please review and I'll try to update in the next few day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ten years ago**

What happened, Usui?", asked Kanou. "Everybody's been searching for you. Misaki is.."

"I'm staying at a hotel, outside Tokyo", Usui interrupted him.

After the graduation Usui had vanished. For two weeks he never showed up at any of the group gatherings. At first people assumed he was home sick, but Misaki, Kanou had noticed, was as ignorant of his whereabouts as everybody else. She expertly changed the subject whenever somebody inquired after his absence. Kanou could tell that despite putting on a brave face, she was hurt and scared.

In the third week, she finally confided to him that she had not heard from Usui since the graduation. He seemed to have disappeared into the thin air. He did not answer her calls. Neither was he at his apartment. Unless he simply refused to answer his door.

Finally after three days, Takumi miraculously showed up at Kanou's door and asked him to walk with him.

Here were they now, sitting on the swings in a playground close to his home.

Kanou waited patiently for Usui to talk, blinking at his stern profile. His mouth was drawn in a grim line.

He had never seen him like this. Not even that day, when he had confronted him and Misaki at the rooftop. Are you trying to mess with me for real? - he had said to him then, his face dangerous and intimidating.

The expression he bore on his face now was similar, but tinted with something else, he thought, perhaps some kind of repressed sorrow.

"I'm leaving", said Usui finally.

Kanou's eyebrows shot up.

"Well, that's not big news, is it?"

Indeed, it was a common knowledge that after the graduation from high-school Usui was going to leave for Britain again, this time for a long time. Misaki had not admitted it to Kanou during their last conversation, but he knew that she was afraid he had left her without saying goodbye, without looking back.

Usui's gaze flicked on him for a second, and again Kanou was struck by the pain in his eyes.

"I'm leaving her," he half-whispered, "and I've come to you to ask you to look over her. I won't be doing it any more".

Kanou stared. For a moment he could not answer. It had to be a joke. He looked closely at Usui's profile again. He did not seem to be joking.

"What?"

Usui sighed impatiently, dug his hand inside the pocket of his trousers and slapped Kanou on the chest with the letter he had taken out.

"Read it." Kanou carefully touched the letter plastered on his chest.

"Usui...", he attempted.

"Just read it."

Digging his feet firmer into the ground for balance, Kanou opened the letter.

 _Dear grandson,_

 _Soon you will be returning to England. Before you do, however, there is an urgent business you have to attend to._

 _As you know, your late mother's actions brought a tremendous shame to the Walker family._

 _She humiliated us by bringing – you – a bastard offspring into the family._

 _For years I have been holding high hopes for you. Expecting nothing, but hoping you would not turn out a disaster of a mongrel that you were destined to become._

 _Your academic achievements and undeniable talents were a relief to me, as I witnessed you grow up into a promising young man from distance._

 _However, your relations with the foreign woman in the maid uniform that suddenly appeared here, at my manor, revived my doubts._

 _I am not writing to explain to you how bringing that wench into our circle pollutes our name._

 _The reason I am penning this letter is to tell you , that I will not have you repeat your mother's disgraceful mistake._

 _I am thus giving you an ultimatum, my grandson: break off the attachment, or else all your life you will be responsible for having me ruin the girl's life you seem to be so fond of._

 _I know you well enough to know of your reckless character. I know no measures of punishment directed to you personally will have an effect. Therefore, I have resolved to change the course of my tactic._

 _I will use all my influence, all my power to make it certain that Ayuzawa Misaki never thrives in her professional life._

 _You certainly know I am a powerful man, thus I promise you this: I will dedicate all my efforts to showing you that abusing your own lineage will only bring you pain and misfortune to you and those you hold dear._

 _There is no use in hiding: I will turn every stone until I find the girl and make sure she is never employed, that she never achieves anything, that her name means nothing in any profession she chooses._

 _The world is a corrupt place, Takumi, and trust me, regardless her efforts and hard work, if I will her to get nothing, so will it be.."_

Kanou had read enough. He looked at Usui, careful to not let his face give away the empathy he was feeling, knowing Usui would hate it.

"So you understand", green eyes pinned him down again, dead serious.

Kanou did. This was serious. He nodded and handed the letter back to him.

"Usui..", he started, searching for right words, "why me? Why are you asking me to look over her? You know Shintani.. He, well.."

Kanou stopped mid-sentence as he saw Usui's eyes turn several shades darker. His face was now openly giving away his grief and something else, something more feral, something terrible.

"He is blinded by passion", his hands gripped the swing chain, "I don't trust him".

Jealousy, thought Kanou, but nodded in response.

"But I trust you, Kanou", Usui's gazed at him fixedly. "You are intelligent. And stronger than you seem. Look over her, and one day I will repay you for your effort."

Kanou looked away in embarrassment.

"Don't say that. Of course I'll try my best. She saved me once. I owe it to her."

"Good".

An ice-cream van could be heard approaching the playground. The jingle it played was "Let Me Call you Sweetheart". Both of them went silent and listened to the tune.

Children stopped their playing, chirped excitedly and flocked to the van.

"One more thing", Kanou heard Usui's quiet, but firm voice.

"Don't tell her anything. She's fearless and stubborn. She won't let anything stand in her way, unless she believes I'm leaving her on my own accord."

Kanou did not dare look at Usui's face as he said those words. His tone was already dense with enough vulnerability to make him cringe with discomfort.

"I'm so sorry."

Usui shook his head. His fringe shadowed his eyes.

"I.. just can't do this to her," his voice broke.

* * *

 **The hotel**

By the time Misaki finished talking, she had drained her glass. She had told Usui everything. Everything Kanou had revealed to her five years ago.

Five years ago, they had met up for a coffee and he had spilled the beans. Duke Rochester had died and as she was no longer in danger, she could learn the truth. Also, five years after Usui's departure, Kanou's words had implied, she was not going to run after him, was she? At the time she was already in a long-term relationship with Hinata. Her story with Usui, Kanou believed, had become a thing of past.

"So, thank you." Misaki looked earnestly into Usui's unreadable face. He said nothing.

"You were right, if you had told me about your grandfather's letter then", her eyes shone in anger, "I would have defied him, I would have come after you."

Suddenly she realized how intense her declaration sounded.

"And that would have ruined my life", she added quickly.

Usui stood up abruptly and walked to the window.

He had to put some distance between them. He leaned against the large window with one hand and put his forehead against the cold surface.

During her whole monologue he had been discreetly caressing her face with his gaze. Whenever her expressive eyes left his to glimpse down at her glass, or to smooth over her skirt over her knees, he would steal a glance at her mouth, at the way her fingers skimmed over her throat to remove an untamed hair strand from it.

He was completely disarmed and suspected that his reserved facade would crumble soon. Listening to her talk in the clear voice of hers, he had been afraid he would grab her there and then, bury his face in her hair and sob in relief and longing. Just like he had wanted when he saw her in the car the day before, her hair gently swayed by the breeze, loose strands tickling the deep plunging neckline; her serenely smiling face upturned to the sun.

In the reflection of the window, she saw him shut his eyes in resignation, fogging the window with a soundless sigh.

"I saw you the other day. At the exhibition. With him".

Misaki startled.

"What?"

Usui opened his eyes. It was beginning to rain. Through the layer of glass he could smell the scent of wet earth.

"I was there. I spent the whole evening observing you two, looking so happy".

She did not know what to say. She remembered how intimate her and Hinata had been that evening, him caressing her hip for everyone to see. The memory brought back the previous night, the wildness, the fantasy.. She blushed.

"Look, I.."

"How can you thank me", his sudden low growl was almost a whisper, "how can you thank me for tearing us apart?"

Misaki knew this was not a question he wanted an answer to.

She gingerly put her glass down and stood up to walk in his direction. She felt slightly wobbly on her feet from sitting in one position for too long.

"Because I love my life, Takumi", she halted to stand behind him at an arm's reach, her voice firm. "I would not give this up for anything. Or anyone."

"I know."

He turned to face her. She was startled to see a strange mixture of sadness, tenderness and anger in his eyes. Slowly, he lifted his arm and cupped her cheek.

"I've been seeing your name all over the press, reading about your success," his chest rose as his thumb lightly stroked her cheekbone, "feeling so proud of you, Misaki."

Her heart squeezed to the size of a plum at his words. She closed the distance between them and feeling his arms embracing her, nestled her face in the crook of his neck. Outside the clouds had completely covered the sun, turning the room gray.

"I'm here now", she whispered, feeling his adam's apple bobble up and down, grazing her nose. He smelled like home.


	5. Chapter 5

The sound of the rain splashing against the window soothed the heavy silence that had descended the room over the pair.

Misaki felt him nuzzle her hair with his nose, sniffing her. His sigh was inaudible, but she sensed it with her body.

Had they made peace? His out-of-blue remark about him seeing her together with Hinata had been like a slap in her face. The words had vibrated with the shadow of the possessive streak he always had in the old days.

Yet deep down, in the darkest corners of her soul, Misaki was relieved and delighted by the evidence of his lingering feelings for her.

She popped her eyes open, an eyelash tickling his throat. He started to tighten his arms around her, but she dropped hers. After a minute, taking the hint, Usui let her go and stepped back.

The light was reflecting on his glasses, disguising his eyes.

She dug her nails into her palm, suddenly nervous.

"I suppose this is a goodbye then".

She forced her face to remain expressionless hearing his inquiring voice. The moment of warmth they had shared minutes ago seemed to have evaporated into the thin air. His mouth was a tight thin line.

She rummaged her brain for a suitable answer.

 _Yes, so long?_

 _Farewell, it's been nice catching up?_

 _Take care, I will think of you every time I feel a man's touch, when my defences are down?_

She almost snickered. It was over. He was proud of her. She was grateful to him. No drama. The story was over.

"You're supposing right".

His eyes narrowed at her answer.

She turned on her heel determinedly and walked towards the couch, leaving him standing by the window. She picked up her purse from the couch and faced in his direction again, bracing herself for the last good-bye.

Suddenly she remembered.

"Oh", she opened her purse and impatiently prodded the corners inside with her hand, "I think you should have this back."

She finally fished out the small object that she had kept tucked away in her bed-linen drawer. For ten years she had not dared to touch it.

Her back still turned to him, she discreetly grasped the object in her hand tightly, silently bidding it adieu for the last time.

She walked to the unmoving statue by the window and held out her palm open for him to see. It was the engagement ring he had given to her on her eighteenth birthday.

"Here."

She breathed impatiently when he remained unresponsive. His eyes had flicked down to her palm for a second, before staring flatly at her face again.

"Takumi... take it." she said louder, a hint of desperation tinting her voice. She reached down for his right hand, ignoring the involuntary shudder the touch of his skin had elicited. She unfolded his long fingers and placed the ring onto his palm. She could not help but wonder at the contrast between the sizes of their hands.

A brief chuckle took her by surprise. A mirthless, flat laugh under his breath. He was studying the ring on his palm curiously, as if it were an alien object.

"Are you trying to completely destroy me, Auyzawa?"

The sound of his voice made her take a step back. The barely-concealed anger mingled with bitter disbelief.

"What exactly do you expect me to do with this?" His eyes were burning a hole through her.

"I don't..",

"I've always known you were cruel," the way he kept his tone smooth despite his evident fury rendered it frighteningly sinister "but this is over the top. Even from you".

His clasped the ring, holding it to his side.

She moved, but he took a step forward, preventing her from escaping.

"What do you think you're doing," the distance between them kept closing "appearing here unannounced, fucking _thanking_ me for leaving you, unceremoniously handing me back the..", he shut his eyes tightly, the rest of the sentence getting stuck in his throat.

Despite the shock his words were causing her, she felt her own anger rise up her throat. She lifted her face boldly to his, taking advantage of the light falling on her face from the window, confronting him with her fury. She was not going to let him be the victim.

"What did _you_ expect me to do?", she spat out, meeting his ferocious look "shrivel up and die? Hate you for the rest of my life?"

 _Damn this_. She had to stop abruptly, looking away. Her eyes were welling up with reluctant tears. It was all coming back: the terror, panic, grief that had overcome her when she had finally come to terms with his disappearance. Those first months in autumn, when it became brutally clear that he had abandoned her. She had felt like she was going to die along with the yellowing leaves.

She cursed under her breath, trying to blink back her tears out of his sight. How could she have thought for a minute that this meeting could go smoothly, without opening old wounds?

His chest was rising in shallow inhales. His tight fist loosened, letting the ring slip on the white fluffy carpet soundlessly.

"I'm sorry." A nearly inaudible whisper.

She stole a glance. With his slumped shoulders, he looked defeated.

Unable to resist the urge to comfort him, she reached out for his hand again, grazing his knuckles with her fingers.

He turned his palm, enclosing her fingers around his. There was a look of urgency in his eyes, all trace of anger gone. He was staring at the glistening dampness in her eyes. He squeezed her hand.

"Please don't".

Before she could process what he was asking her – to not cry? To not go? - suddenly he exhaled sharply and grasping her side, turned her around.

He pushed her softly, making her press her back against the glass window with a thud. His forearms resting on the either side of her head, he had trapped her. Yet the pleading expression on his face was a sharp contrast with the dominant gesture. The strong sense of dejavu suddenly took her breath away.

The fireworks.

Those ridiculous costumes.

Her heart falling out of her throat as she confessed to him.

The warmth of his hand against her cheek.

His breathless voice.

 _I've been enduring a lot of things, and I can't phrase them short. Even now.._

It could have been the sound of raindrops tapping unreservedly against the glass, so close to her ears that did it. Hot, weak tears trailed down, making their way to the corner of her mouth. She felt his thumb catch one, moisturizing her upper lip with it.

The kiss that followed felt so natural, Misaki wondered if the ten years had been a long dream, or an absurd nightmare. When his tongue tentatively caressed hers, he moaned softly and sealed the distance between them completely.

Returning the wet kiss, she tasted his hot tears. Was he kissing her to prevent her from seeing him crying?

All thoughts deserted Misaki's head as one of his hands travelled down her body to lift her up against his hips, her legs encircling him.

* * *

By the time the lightening illuminated the sky, the glass rattled dangerously against their movements.

His voice repeated her name like a prayer as he drove into her fervently, teeth grazing across her wet cheek, her jaw, down to her throat.

They were still fully dressed, his open trousers and her lifted skirt being the only indication to what they were doing.

With one hand holding her up, his other hand never stilled, franatically squeezing, kneading her breast, her waist, grasping her hand above her head.

Dazed by the unbelievable pleasure building inside her, she stroked his fringe aside, needing to look at him better. Her heart squeezed at the sight of his bare forehead. Unshielded by the wisp of hair, it made his face look endearing and innocent.

The glass shook loudly against her back. Misaki knew the rooms in this hotel had bullet-proof windows, but motioned Usui to move away from it anyway.

He stopped, removing them from the spot. Still planted deeply inside her, he sank down to his knees onto the carpet.

He threw his head back as she moved on top of him, straddling him, her insides milking him erotically. She whimpered in synch of her movements, her brain turning into a mush. His one hand slid up behind her, palm pressing against the small of her back, supporting her movements as he hissed against her throat.

The last coherent sensation Misaki felt was her knee brushing against the cold metal of the ring he had dropped earlier. The pleasure was so intense she could not keep herself astride anymore. Breaking the kiss with a bite on his lower lip, she dropped herself on her elbows, her spine arching out.

He groaned and pushed himself forward, pinning her down with his whole body. She dug her nails savagely into his thigh, the other hand grabbing the carpet to keep herself from crying out loud.

As his face levelled with hers, he deepened his thrusts, kissing her open-eyed, taking in her ecstasy-filled face.

His one arm cradled around her head, over her forehead, pushing back her hair as if to see her whole face more clearly, his eyes searching hers desperately.

"Have ever thought of me while doing this", his words were halted by another moan as he felt her walls squeeze him even more tightly.

Misaki tried to ignore the question, turning her head away, focusing instead on the incredible pleasure that his union generated.

He thrust harder.

"Answer me, Misaki", he pleaded desperately.

She gasped, turning her head to return his intense gaze.

What she did next surprised him. She took his face between both her palms, one thumb running along his clenched jawline.

"Yes", she whispered.

Takumi moaned at her answer, burying his face in the crook of her throat again.

"You have no idea how many times I've imagined doing this with you."

His voice sounded so wounded, so earnest Misaki tightened her embrace around him protectively.

"You've been in my dreams, in my nightmares.. Everywhere..", he was thrusting into her faster, making her throw her head back, her long raven hair splayed against the white carpet.

"You're in my bones, Misaki." His hand holding her forehead slid down to cradle her cheek softly, a stark contrast with the violent motions of his lower body. A painful moan escaping his throat, he cupped the front of her jaw and kissed her softly, lovingly, his thumb stroking under her chin.

Misaki's eyes fluttered open. She was at the edge and needed to see his face, to forever engrave the moment in her memory.

Locking her damp gaze with his, she moaned into his mouth, exploding around him like dynamite.

* * *

As she lay on top of him few minutes later, she felt him get on his knees, sliding out of her carefully.

She wanted to say something, but could not trust her voice.

Only when she felt his thumbs graze over her hips, she looked up, finding him staring at her there. Misaki blushed, knowing he had noticed the angry bluish bruises she had gotten the night before, when Hinata had grasped her by her hips.

Closing his eyes painfully, he laid on his back next to her on the carpet with his side touching hers, placing his forearms over his face. His cock, still erect, was glistening from her juices.

"Was he your first..", his voice hoarse.

"Yes."

His hands went up to his hair and the gesture broke her heart.

Feeling completely numb inside, she inched closer to his side, draping one arm over his torso.

His arms wrapped around her in response, holding her close. Settling her cheek over his chest, she gave herself in to deep slumber.


	6. Chapter 6

Too warm. She awoke feeling sweat trickling down from her temple to her eye, stinging it.

Slowly coming to her senses, she realized the source of her discomfort. Usui was pressed against her back, his whole body glued tightly to her. Both his arms were wrapped around her as he spooned her. She could feel his calm breath fanning the top of her head.

She took in the room, suddenly realizing that they were no longer on the carpet, but on the king-sized bed, under the covers. He must have carried her there while she slept. It could not have been longer than an hour, as the light was still the same.

She breathed in deeply and felt him stiffen behind her, before slightly tightening his hold around her.

She shifted and rolled over to face him, still encircled by his unwavering arms. As her face levelled an inch away from his, his eyes focused on her face attentively.

They gazed at each other for a while. She noticed a slight bruise on his lower lip where she had bitten him earlier in the heat of the moment.

Hesitating for a second, her fingers skimmed across it lightly. His eyes followed her movements, his expression darkening slightly at the realization of her thoughts, her recollections.

Yet Misaki could perceive the guarded wariness in the green pools. Even though his body was relaxed against hers, his eyes inspected her with cagey watchfulness. However, when her fingers slid from his mouth up to his cheek, cupping it with her palm, his gaze softened at the affectionate gesture.

It was fascinating, Misaki thought, how his normally stony, impenetrable facial expressions were so eloquent in their little shifts and stirs. Was it because she knew him so well? She could never guess his thoughts, but when his guard was down, his soul was generously outstretched before her.

Despite guilt gnawing at her heart, Misaki felt unusually light and relieved for the first time in two days. She felt as if the inevitable had happened. Laying in his arms, she felt home.

As if following the line of her thoughts, he shut his eyes and lowered his forehead to rest against hers. She inched her face a centimetre closer, brushing the tip of his nose with hers.

When his hand started to slide up her side, however, she gently but firmly wriggled herself out of his embrace to sit up. She was sweaty all over, having been under the thick cover with her clothes still on, not to mention the added body heat.

As she started to get up from the bed, she felt his hand grasp her wrist firmly .

"No."

She shot him a quizzical look. He was sitting up in the bed, holding her by the wrist. He looked like he was searching for the right words.

"You can't go now".

A simple, yet subtly dominant plea.

 _He thinks I'm going to leave just like that, after what happened?_

She released her hand from his hold.

"I'm just going to shower."

His posture visibly relaxed. He sat back and leaned against the headboard of the bed, watching her pad her way to the bathroom.

As she grasped the handle of the door she heard him spring from the bed to his feet before catching up with her.

"Wait", he reached to push his hand against the bathroom door she had cracked open, closing it shut.

She scowled up at his face as he reached down for her hand again.

"Stay with me tonight", his thumb skimmed across her knuckles. "Please."

Misaki was suddenly distracted by his short-sighted gaze. Because he was not wearing neither his glasses nor his contacts, his myopic eyes were not entirely focused, making him look slightly lost, yet heart-wrenchingly endearing.

Taking her hesitation as a sign of encouragement, he cupped her cheek, pulling her to him. He inhaled slowly, as if preparing himself before a rehearsed speech.

"I know how you're feeling right now, I know what you must be thinking..", she looked away at his words, seeing the guilt reflected in his eyes.

"But you cannot run from this, Misaki", his embrace tightened in response to her stiffness, "at least not tonight".

She swallowed with difficulty. Putting both her palms firmly on his chest, she detached herself from the heat of his body.

"I'm going to shower".

She turned to open the door, feeling his expectant gaze fixed on her.

"I.. need to clear my head."

* * *

Under the hot stream of water, she soaped her clammy body thoroughly. Her face turned eagerly at the source of the stream, she wished the water would ebb her chaotic thoughts, wash off his wet kisses, exorcise her demons.

She felt like she still had not descended from the incredible orgasm he had given her. Her skin felt tender to her own touch and her lower body was still pulsating deliciously. She inhaled sharply at the flashback of him moving inside her, his hands frantically exploring, stroking her whole body, manipulating it to experience an unimaginable ecstasy.

What would it mean for her to stay and spend the night with him? Would they talk some more? Would a compromise be reached?

Or Would they fight? Would they fuck like animals again?

She cringed at the last thought. Shutting her eyes tightly she rinsed her hair.

She thought of Hinata, his open adoration for her, his relentless kindness and love. He did not deserve this.

She did not know how she would stomach seeing him once she got home. How would she be able to kiss him without incinerating in the spot from shame, humiliation and guilt? How would she ever be able to let herself be pleasured without imagining Usui throughout it all?

Her thought returned to the figure waiting for her in the room and wondered what was passing through his mind. What was he expecting from her right now?

 _You're in my bones, Misaki._

Her insides shuddered at the recollection of the voice that had uttered the words, before he had skyrocketed her to an incredible height she never believed was possible to experience. It had been an hour since it had happened, but her insides were still throbbing, purring like a satisfied cat.

Unable to resist the temptation, she slid her right hand down to her body. Stroking her sore yet burning core, she softly tilted her head backward, sighing softly as she massaged herself. Her nipples felt sensitive under the tough stream of water. She felt weak on her feet, yet fiercely, aggressively alert and alive.

At the bathroom door, when he had spoken to her, the desire to give in, agree to anything he asked had been so strong her knees had begun to shake.

Really, she thought ruefully, was an exceptionally good sex all it took to make her feel so helpless?

 _Well, that and true love_ , a small voice spoke in her head.

She huffed and irritably turned off the faucet. So much for water clearing her thoughts.

Stepping out of the shower, she forced herself to look into the eyes of the woman she had become – a cheater? A love slave? A fool? - and was greeted by the sight of her burning ambers. Her eyes looked at her feverishly.

 _A carnivore_.

No, she decided, she did not recognize the person in the mirror, but she was hyper-aware of her _desire_. After getting a taste of him, she craved him, deeply, painfully, with her body and soul.

She had never in her life wanted anything more.

She sighed with her eyes shut, finally making up her mind. He was right, she could not fight it.

 _At least not tonight._

* * *

Misaki's inner dialogue was interrupted by the sound of soft bluesy piano music seeping through the walls.

She dried her hair half-heartedly, before wrapping herself in another towel.

When she exited the bathroom, her senses were overtaken by a familiar smell. He was cooking rice omelettes.

 _Since when did hotel suits have kitchens_? – she mused, walking in the direction of the smell.

She found him at a small kitchenette around the corner of the room. His back turned to her, he was chopping up something on a small kitchen island counter as eggs sizzled on the frying pan.

She stood immobile for a minute, not wanting to disturb him. She could not help but smile when he hummed softly along the simple melody playing in the stereo. She had missed seeing him like this, relaxed and casual, undisturbed by any worries. His head bent down, the exposed whiteness of the nape of his neck made him look suddenly extremely vulnerable. Her heart squeezed as she fastened the towel above her breasts more firmly.

"Welcome back, Ayuzawa", he said suddenly, before turning his head in her direction. He eyed up her barely covered body with a smile and popped a piece of chopped pepper in his mouth.

Startled, Misaki realized that he had not actually seen her naked body even in the most heated moments. In fact, it had been _because_ of the extreme heat of the moment that they had not bothered to disrobe, instead taking what they needed from each another in manic urgency. On her walk to the kitchen Misaki had spotted the visible mark on window glass against which he had pressed her back when he...

Feeling somewhat embarrassed under his gaze, she lowered her eyes and approached the kitchen island, perching onto the stool next to his. She stole a glance at him as he proceeded with the chopping. He was wearing his glasses again, his body relaxed against the stool. He was so tall he was more standing than sitting, merely leaning against the seat. Giving his muscular shoulder one last wistful glance, her eyes shifted to the ingredients of the meal he was preparing.

"I thought you might be hungry", he said, following her appreciative gaze. He was finished with vegetables and was now chopping a block of aged Gouda cheese in small cubes.

The food really did smell otherworldly, thought Misaki, as her stomach rumbled loudly.

"Thank you", she smiled at him gratefully and stretched out to steal a cube of cheese. She noticed his movements stilling, as she followed the trajectory of his gaze, skimming from her knees up to her thighs, reaching the hem of the bath-towel. She felt her pulse quicken.

"My dress was damp", she tried to explain, trying to ignore the wettness quickly pooling between her legs.

He said nothing. Instead, his eyes shamelessly, slowly lifted from her thighs to her face. He cut the last of the cheese and chuckled.

"Isn't the towel damp as well?", he said, cocking an eyebrow. His voice sounded lower and dangerous, yet he maintained a conversational tone.

Misaki bit her lip. His arrogance was irritating, but only served to fuel her arousal even more.

"Why don't you check?", she heard herself snap back at him before she could stop herself.

He stilled his movements, stretching out his arms onto the counter.

With a quick flicker of his hand, he turned off the stove, and finally turned to face her fully. Her breath hitched as he slowly stepped to stand behind her stool, his face levelling with the crook of her throat.

He slid his hands from her hips to her thighs, feeling the fabric.

"I think it's very, very damp", his breath fanned her ear while his palms stroked their way up to her stomach.

"I think you should..", his whisper was turning into a growl, "take it off".

Upon saying the words, his deft fingers slowly, unhurriedly unclasped the towel from the top of her breasts, loosening the towel to fall around her body.

Misaki did not mind the cold air hitting her naked body. The heat and stimulation she was feeling from him pressed against her back was so intense she was beginning to be covered in cold sweat.

His one hand lifted to softly stroke her left breast, as his face leaned down to nip at her throat.

"Oh god", she whispered, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling. His hand replaced his mouth, stroking her throat , holding her there firmly. She felt his hair tickle her breast as his mouth captured her right nipple, gently squeezing it between his lips.

She entangled her fingers in his hair, holding him fastened to the spot.

"Bite me", she pleaded raggedly.

Usui moaned at her words, before enclosing her nipple between his teeth, giving it a rough squeeze he knew would hurt.

She let out a shaky moan.

Quickly, he stopped his ministrations to lift her from the stool and hoisted her body onto the counter, softly pushing her to lay down on the marble surface.


	7. Chapter 7

The rhythm of the smooth tune wafting from the stereo was picking up speed, the double bass and drums engaged in a slow duet, as if battling over the dominance of the last notes.

Misaki watched him strap her legs over his shoulders, pulling her lower body closer to him with his forearms.

When his mouth descended on her inner thighs to nibble on the skin there, she turned her cheek to press against the cold marble. She could feel the bass vibrating through it.

As Usui's mouth trailed wetly closer to its intended destination, she felt a pinch on her nipple. She gasped. He wanted her to look at him. To see her come undone by his attention.

She slid both her hands into his hair, squeezing it by handfuls to reciprocate the pain he had caused her. It only omitted a gutteral low growl from him, as his mouth started to pick at the outer folds of her core, slowly, subtly.

She tried to steady her breathing, not wanting to let him have an easy victory. Keeping his challenging gaze, her breasts heaved in her attempt to tame, domesticate the wild pleasure that was already beginning to smoulder.

Reading his mischievous grin in his eyes, as his lips were out of her field of vision, she knew that he knew very well of her struggle.

He pulled his head up to let his fingers lightly brush the folds where his mouth had been. She shuddered at the incredibly stimulating, yet deeply unsatisfying sensation.

"You're a devil", she whimpered as his index finger circled her clit for a second, before resuming to stroke her outer layers, casually leafing through her petals as if getting the feel of the texture of a rare rose.

He only smiled in response, knowing how much she hated the feeling of losing control to him. His mouth descended to the destination again and his tongue licked through the crevices his fondling fingers had exposed, opening her up.

Now feeling the steady pressure of his tongue and lips stimulating her core, she let herself drop down on her back, closing her eyes and outstretching her arms.

When his two, then three fingers started to pump along the ministrations of his mouth, she looked up at him. The sight, she knew, would haunt her wet dreams forever: his long fingers, now drenched with her essence, slipping in and out of her, his expert mouth driving her crazy.

 _He knows what he's doing_ , she thought suddenly, a pang of jealousy clouding her eyes.

 _He must have had plenty of practice._

His eyes, catching the change of expression, narrowed quizzically as he lifted his glistening mouth from her pussy.

"What is it?", as his fingers kept stirring her up.

"I was thinking how good at this you are". The pleasure rendered her unable to lie.

His face turned serious, guessing the punch line, before he grinned again.

"The first time I wanted to eat you up like this was when I saw you throw that boxing sandbag over your shoulder, remember?"

"What on earth are you talking about?", she moaned, her eyes fogging with pleasure as his thumb started to flick her clit in synch with the pumping of his hand.

He laughed at her puzzlement.

"Each time I witnessed displays of your strength and resolve, it always aroused me painfully", he said with a smile.

His head sank again, giving her centre a smacking kiss.

"Each time, I would imagine stripping you off and making you lose your mind by doing this..", he enclosed her clit in his mouth, sucking on it as his tongue assaulted it.

"God, you're such a pervert", her throaty hiss let him know she was close. He looked up at her sweaty, flushed body. Her back arched out, she seemed to be the materialization of his decade-long dreams. But not even in his most feverish dreams could he have imagined how beautiful and lustrous she looked now.

"It has always been about the power play for you", she whimpered through her moans, hips rocking against his hand, "about wanting to disarm me".

"That, but also," she could swear he was smiling into her pussy, "also, I've always loved you".

His words came out as the most obvious statement, yet the way his lips moved into her sensitive layers as he spoke them, the way his tongue slid up an inch into her, it all caused her to be pulled over the edge.

First giving a breathy moan, she cried out, her hands tightening into his hair. She could have screamed, but instead she tried to focus on the insanity that had unfolding inside her body. Her orgasm lasted for few minutes, but he did seem to be slowing down or backing off.

In fact even as her insides stopped clenching around his fingers, he continued.

She looked up at him with her wary, teary eyes. What was he doing?

He caught her eyes.

"Lay back Misaki, we're not done with you yet".

She knew it. He wanted to drive her crazy. But all she could do was lay back again, relishing in the feeling of his fingers exploring her insides. She watched his right arm flex with the deep, calculated movements.

Through the fog of the carnal pleasure, she recognized the song that had just started playing, it was Nat King Cole's _Blame it on my Youth_. Eyeing the blond mop buried between her legs, she concentrated on the velvety voice of the singer.

 _If you were on my mind all night and day/ Blame it on my youth_ _  
_ _If I forgot to eat and sleep and pray/ Blame it on my youth_

His fingers were getting ruthless, his mouth ravaging her.

The way Usui made love was so much like his personality, she thought, intense and fervent, yet sensual and irresistible.

"Don't stop!", she gasped, as she squeezed his shoulders with the back of her knees.

"Misaki", he breathed her name wetly onto her clit and she came undone.

This time she did not hold back, her cries echoing around the walls. She felt like she was at the eye of the tornado. The pleasure was so intense she felt like everything she had ever known, experienced before this moment had been fraud and unreal.

Her cries escalated as she felt an unfamiliar sensation building up in her core. She heard him hum in approval as she inadvertently let go of a small outburst of liquid. After she came down the incredible sensation, his fingers stilled down to a soothing rhythm, making squelching sounds in her drenched alcove.

Finally she let go of his hair and covered her face with both palms. She had never felt this way. Never done.. that. She felt both enlightened and ashamed, unable to look at him in the eye.

 _If I cried a little bit / When first I learned the truth_ _  
_ _Don't blame it on my heart / Blame it on my youth_

The lines resounded in the silent room. Still hiding her face, she could feel him stroking her stomach soothingly, leaving a trail of sweet kisses on her abdomen. Finally his hands crooked under her shoulderblades, lifting her up in the sitting position.

As soon as her hands fell from her face, he pecked her lips lightly, before removing his shirt to put it on her, masking her from the cold air.

She was suddenly distracted by the scars on his chest, reminders of the time when he saved her from public humiliation and jumped off a roof to retrieve a photo of her as a maid. Her hand traced the white snaring lines, before it was captured by his fingers, to be brought it to his lips.

Looking at her face searchingly, as if ascertaining that she was all right, he engulfed her in embrace. He held her like that, his arms around her protectively, as one hand stroked her head.

Comforted by his wordless affection, she quickly became aware of his state. He was breathing heavily and the bulge pressing between her thighs was steely hard.

Remembering their earlier conversation, she smiled slightly in his shoulder. It was her turn now.

She wriggled her bare lower body onto his erection. Smiling wider at the resulting sharp hiss from him, she scraped the skin on his side above the hem of his trousers.

He faced her, examining her face with darkened, expectant eyes.

She leaned in to place a soft open-mouthed kiss on his lips.

"Off", she murmured while tugging at his trousers.

He smiled devilishly, before lifting her from the counter, her legs encircling his torso.

"Let me take us somewhere more comfortable first", he said as he walked towards the couch.

Before he lowered her on the couch, she leaned her mouth to his ear.

"I want to be on top". A breathy whisper, meant to drive him wild. His hands holding her thighs squeezed in frustration.

He sat down still holding her in front of him. As he settled herself astride, she stood on her knees to unbutton his trousers, pulling it down with his boxers.

He watched her with a hardly-restrained patience glinting in his eyes.

 _He knows I want to take control_ , she thought as she straddled him again, and without any further ado, lowered herself onto his hard member.

"Wait, Misaki what..", he exhaled shakily as her warmth engulfed him unceremoniously. He grasped her by the hips, before swiftly removing the shirt over her head, needing to feel more of her skin.

She started moving, towering slightly over his face, as he watched her.

He grinned up at her in pure joy of the act.

"Back to the power play, are we?", he drawled and brought up one hand to her breast to pull it inside his mouth.

Miaki felt pleasure washing over her again, but tried to ignore it the best she could, as she had a different agenda on her hands. By the time she was finished she would have Takumi Usui sobbing at her feet.

 _Except he already had been close to being in that state_ , she thought ruefully, momentarily dismissing the game to capture his lips in a deep, eloquent kiss.

Having her lithe, athletic body move in erotic motions on top of him, having her heaving chest gently touching his, her tongue caressing his, all this was slowly making Usui lose his mind.

Breaking away from the kiss, he looked up at her with an upturned face, worshipping the woman of his dreams. He still could hardly wrap his mind around the events of the past two hours. He could not believe that he had tasted her like he always had wanted, that he had touched her, made her come.. Now she was clearly trying to put him over the edge, in a semi-playful attempt to claim back her control. But Usui knew that she loved her as much as he loved her. He had seen it in her reactions, when her subconscious had been peeled raw for him to see.

He was close, but he wanted her to climax again before he did. Looking at her knowing look, however, he knew this went against her plans.

She moved on top of him, alternating between shallow and deep movements, ramming her wet pussy on him. Her one hand came down to stroke the bottom of his shaft and he groaned helplessly. She was really going for it.

"Let go, Usui", she breathed into his ear, before biting down on the earlobe.

Feeling her pert nipples pressing against his chest, he could not resist anymore. His whole body tensed like a bowstring, before crying out her name, crushing her body against him.

Misaki had wanted to observe his demolition in victory, but wittnessing the sight made her body betray her and she followed him, her voice joining his.


	8. Chapter 8

"Thank you, this was great".

An hour later, they had finally gotten around eating their dinner.

They ate sitting cross-legged on the bed. He had brought the food there, knowing she was exhausted. Also, her sitting on his bed, covered only by a pillow on her front was a sight he did not want to disrupt.

They had been in bed for an hour now, talking, holding each other and relishing in each other's presence . The initial euphoria having ebbed, they had taken their time unhurriedly and languidly mapping each other's bodies.

She disposed of her empty plate on the bedside table with a loud clatter.

He observed her stretched naked back, as her attention lingered on the table. She tossed her hair to get it out of the way, as she gingerly plucked a cream-coloured paper between her two fingers. Turning to him, she gazed inquiringly.

"You're going to this too?"

It was an invitation to an official luncheon the following day hosted by an established national newspaper. The event was dedicated to celebrating the Hundred Most Influential People of the year. Misaki knew she had made the list, but she had not been bothered to check the entire list of the other nominees.

Takumi got rid of his own plate and inched closer, capturing her warm body in his arms.

"Yes, an unnecessary flashy spectacle..", he murmured, nuzzling her hair distractedly. He smirked, catching her eye. "Of course, for me the sole purpose of going was to stalk you there."

He was intentionally turning it into a joke, trying to disguise the truth. Despite the intimacy they had shared throughout the evening, the fear that he might overwhelm her with his emotions, his passion and cause her to escape remained. Thus he could not have her know that having received the invitation, initially he had groaned in annoyance, but later, when he had obtained the guest-list from his assistant, he had noticed her name there.

She rolled her eyes. "Figures. I'm not even sure if I'm.." His lips interrupted her.

She blushed, smelling herself on him. His touch was sweet and soothing.

Wrapping an arm around his neck, she returned the slow kiss, tugging at his lower lip.

Just as he removed the pillow from her lap, a muted sound of cellphone resounded in the room.

His heart stopped, hearing the generic beeping sound getting louder.

 _It's him_.

Taking in her frozen expression, he knew she was thinking the same.

After few seconds, as the ringing continued, she detached herself from him, avoiding his eye and sprang to her feet, hurrying to her purse to retrieve the offending object.

As her eyes registered the caller number, however, he noticed her stiff shoulders relax.

"Oh.. Ayumi?".

Talking to her – assistant, secretary, partner? - he was struck by the transformation in her voice. Suddenly authoritative and powerful, her tone had descended an octave lower. Even her posture had shifted into a power-walk: her back straight, eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Yes, tell me."

He relaxed too, sitting up to lean against the headboard with his hands behind his head. He observed her pace slowly around the room, her pale body reflecting the shadows of the late spring evening.

Padding around the room with the phone held to her ear, one hand distractedly combing out knots from her long stresses, he admired her from the distance. Still completely naked, she was a picture of a mature confident woman completely comfortable in her skin and body. Had he not - only fifteen minutes ago - possessed the same body intimately on the bed, leisurely, unhurriedly?

"Ayumi, you do realize that's in less than two days?", she hissed irritably. She walked to the mini-bar and poured herself a drink. "I returned to Japan two days ago, I can't travel to bloody Berlin regardless how important the opportunity is".

Berlin? His propped his ears.

"I know, but I absolutely, definitely cannot go now", she huffed impatiently as she took a quick gulp of her brandy and licked her upper lip. She stole a glance in his direction. He twitched.

He watched her slowly pace to the window, letting out "mm"s and "tsk"s as she listened to the caller for a moment.

"You can give them my answer right away for all I care. You don't have to wait till Monday".

He got up, approaching her.

"Yes, you too. Thank..", the rest of the sentence was stuck in her throat as she felt his arms wrap around her.

"Do you mind?", she muttered, hanging up.

He kissed her temple, rubbing her arm.

"So, what about Berlin?"

"Long story.. ", she waved her hand dismissively "I was offered to represent a controversial human rights activist that has been unjustly convicted.. It's been all over the media, a big deal. Would have been a good opportunity if it wasn't so soon after my return to Japan."

He pulled her hand up, holding her drink to his lips, taking a swig.

"Also, at the moment my hands are full with more urgent issues."

He held her pensive, meaningful gaze. He knew she was referring to the problems in her firm she had told him about earlier, but he hoped their relationship was amongst the "urgent issues" she planned to deal with.

The phone-call had pulled them out of their brief make-believe world. The mood in the room had changed and he could feel her getting restless.

"I have to go."

He nodded, before squeezing her for the last time.

* * *

The elegant couple walked out of the hotel's revolving doors, making their way to the taxi waiting at the side-walk. She did not want him to accompany her out, but he had insisted.

When they reached the car, she turned. Before leaving the room he had thrown on his button-down shirt and a pair of trousers. With his tussled bed-hair and bitten-up lips, he looked ridiculously attractive in his unapologetic just-fucked splendour. Some passer-byes slowed down to openly admire him.

She searched for the right words under his wary, scrutinizing eyes. In the semi-darkness they were the colour of a river in woods.

 _Where do we go from here?_

"I will talk to him." She whispered. "But I need some time".

He said nothing for a while, but merely took her by her elbow, giving it a soft squeeze.

"I cannot bear to stay away from you", his voice was strangled, partly to limit the audience of his words and partly due the terror, agony he was feeling at the prospect of letting her go. "Not any more."

She nodded. _Hurry up, burn the bridge quickly_ , his words implicated.

"I will see you tomorrow at the luncheon."

As she reached for the door, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, plating a soft, but lingering kiss on her lips. She heard somebody gasp and giggle. At this point, they had attracted an audience of curious on-lookers who were openly gawking at the intense exchange. Nervously, her eyes quickly scanned the crowed briefly, relieved to see no familiar faces.

As the car set off, watching him standing on the side-walk with his hands in his pockets, she had a deja-vu. Only two days ago, she had seen him in the exact same circumstance. She remembered the peculiar feeling – the ringing in her ears, the complete numbness setting in her body, paralysing her for a moment.

As the car rounded the corner of the street, she leaned her head against the cold window, closing her eyes.

 _Come what may._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Coming next: an inevitable meeting of Hinata and Usui. The plot is going to get thicker from here, I promise. I'll update soon.

Please don't forget to review!


	9. Chapter 9

"Miss Auyzawa!", gasped a chic elderly woman with silver-streaked hair, holding out her hand, "A big admirer. So pleased to meet you and to have ended up at the same table as you."

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Yokoyama." Misaki smiled graciously and shook hands with the famous veteran journalist, who had made her name with her professional integrity and courage.

The event of the 100 Most Influential People of the Year was held at a distinguished theater hall of Tokyo. The magazine that hosted the occasion had evidently not spared a dime in making it memorable: the lasciviously, yet tastefully decorated interior screamed money and caprice.

The room was filled with round dinner tables, where the groups of honoree guests - constituted of famous activists, scientists, athletes, artists as well as Tokyo's elite figures - exchanged pleasantries under the dimmed lights. All tables were illuminated with silver-rimmed glass candle holders, intentionally casting golden light onto the occupants' faces, as if to confirm their importance.

Misaki was delighted at the selection of her table-companions. Besides the gushing journalist, across her a famous athlete and his striking wife were just taking their seats, waiting for their turn to make the introductions.

"I read on the news that since your return you are going to settle in Japan for a while. Our country needs more brilliant youth like you. I'm delighted!", the journalist beamed benevolently.

Misaki smiled back, suddenly thinking of her mother, who always complained that she spent too much time working overseas.

"That makes two of us, Miss Yokoyama", chipped in Hinata, grinning good-humouredly. Discreetly, he brushed her thigh with his fingers under the table.

Misaki laughed along with her, but cringed internally, a pang of guilt stabbing her heart. She wished his hand to be off her skin. Deliberately, she coughed, shooting him a meaningful glare. Right on cue, he cleared his hand off her thigh, perceiving her reluctance to his touch to be propriety-based.

"Indeed, some opportunities are simply too hard to turn down", Misaki resumed the conversation smoothly, simulating a rueful, conversational tone to cover the awkward pause, "Only yesterday I refused a fascinating case, but had I taken it, I would have to fly to Berlin, for god knows how long."

As the table occupants nodded emphatically, the conversation was cut short when the stage was taken by the editor of the magazine. He cleared his throat into the microphone, attracting the crowd's attention, followed by a short welcoming speech, thanking everyone for coming. His informal speech elicited small chuckles, as he joked about the occasion being a time capsule that would commemorate the best specimen of the country for the future generations to remember.

As the clapping accompanying the presenter's departure from the stage subdued, Misaki used the opportunity to casually scan through the crowds. In the sea of satin, gelled hair and sparkling jewelry, he was nowhere to be seen. Unsurprisingly, she thought, chances that she would be seated close to him in such a huge space were slim to none.

 _Good_.

She took a deep breath, suddenly feeling hopeful.

She would have loved to bail out of the whole affair, but as an honoree of the event, she absolutely could not. Her position was public enough to make her absence matter and Misaki was hardly going to risk a chip to her social reputation – so closely linked to her professional career - for the sake of avoiding an awkward encounter between Hinata and Usui. Furthermore, she thought grimly, in a strange cosmic logic, such a risk would do no justice to the sacrifice Usui had made to ensure her successful career.

As she surveyed the crowd, her eyes landed on the table not far away from hers. A familiar laughing face caught her attention. Strangely, whenever she thought of Tora – once in a blue moon – she always envisaged his face exactly the way she was seeing it now: careless, mirthful and arrogant. Wearing a black tuxedo, he looked sharp and slithery, reminding her of a reptile. She should have known he would be here, his empire having thrived aggressively to bombastic proportions.

As if sensing her gaze, he suddenly turned his attention to her, his laugh transforming into an overt smirk. His eyebrows shooting up in a greeting, he raised his glass at her.

Irritated, she looked away. She had come across him on various occasions at formal events in the past. Their relationship had died out despite his attempts to reach her in various ways. Few times, following some of her most successful legal cases that had saturated the media, he had sent her a bucket of roses accompanied by a card, congratulating her. She never dignified him with an answer and his flowers always ended up wilting away in her paper-basket.

The ceremony proceeded smoothly, with various people making toasts in which they celebrated other present honorees who happened to be in their acquaintance.

Misaki relaxed, chatting with her table companions. Occasionally she felt Hinata's hand squeeze her knee. She smiled at him and did her best to act normal, yet the sick feeling of alienation and discomfort ate at her heart.

After the athlete at her table wrapped up his toast honoring his Olympic golden medalist friend, the microphone was passed to Tora. Misaki rolled her eyes when, as soon as he erected to his feet, the room quieted down instantly. The usual effect. She gulped down her wine, trying to zone out of his speech. His voice resounding around the room smoothly as molten gold, he worked his magic on the audience.

However, when she heard him utter her name, she almost spewed out her drink. Coughing softly against her hand, she felt the bitter taste up in her nose. In disbelief, she stared at the man who was now gesturing in her direction, holding his drink at his head-level.

".. I feel especially privileged to be in the same room as Miss Ayuzawa – whom we can all agree - is our treasured national pride."

She fought back a frown from forming on her forehead.

 _"Our" treasured national pride_?

"..at the shockingly young age of twenty-eight, with her work in human rights' law, she has created a map and put her name on it."He went on addressing the audience, whose curious eyes skipped between them. "Having known her for a decade, I am fully confident when I state that her success will be unrelenting."

As the loud applause erupted, Misaki forced to put on a more natural smile, nodding gratefully at people clapping and smiling at her in admiration. As Hinata, smiling proudly, pulled her to him in a side-hug and kissed her cheek, she heard a soft ripple of murmur pass through the nearby tables.

"Do they know each other?", she heard somebody exclaim at her back. She turned her head, following everyone's gaze behind her and realized the reason for the agitation. Few tables away from her, a tall blond figure was standing upright, facing in her direction, clapping deliberately. Misaki's heart lurched. Everybody else, except Tora, was seated, making Usui and his standing ovation look conspicuous.

His head held high, from the distance he looked at her with a slight smile. Her jaw slackening in shock, she felt a strong blush rise up her face. No wonder all eyes were on him: clad in a perfectly tailored grey tuxedo, his hair gelled back, Usui looked like something out of an expensive watch commercial.

She had a sudden flashback of brushing his fringe away from his forehead, the urgent, desperate eyes penetrating through her hesitation as he pressed her back against the window in the hotel suite. She could still feel the soft texture of the sweat-dampened tendrils against her fingertips.

She pressed her thighs together and flinched, trying to ignore the quizzical murmurs around her. Quickly, she looked down at her plate.

 _What was he doing attracting attention to himself like that?_

"Are you OK?", she heard Hinata's worried whisper.

She nodded, smiling reassuringly at him. He looked grim, an obvious reaction to having noticed Usui.

"Do you want to leave?", he asked, his eyes pleading her to say yes.

"It's fine." She muttered under her breath.

* * *

Following the dinner, the reception room vibrated with the tittering guests.

Misaki caught her reflection in the mirror hanging across the wall. Her strapless cream-coloured column dress was only accentuating the blush resulting from the wine she had consumed to calm herself down during the ceremony.

Finally it was over, after two hours, five courses and innumerable tedious toasts. She shut her eyes and sighed. She would stay long enough to mingle with some groups, say some thank-you's and then she would excuse herself.

Examining her reflection, she tried to pull up the bust-line of the dress, which had slightly shifted down during the ceremony, revealing a soft but noticeable bluish spot above her breast. At home she had managed to hide the bite-marks and bruises by wearing her pajamas and then changing in the bathroom for the luncheon.

 _Hinata_.

When she returned home the night before, he was not in. It had given her a leeway to freshen up, to shower Usui's smell off her skin and above all – calm her wits down. Upon returning, he had leaned in to kiss her hello, but unable to meet it, she had awkwardly turned her head, causing his lips to collide with her cheek. She desperately, urgently needed to talk to him about what had happened and more importantly - what was going to happen; but as he had busied himself brewing tea for them before bedtime, telling her candid stories from work, she had been unable to interrupt him. Yet, every minute passed, every simulated smile returned, she imploded piece by piece. The longer she withheld the information increased her sense of betrayal, magnified her sin.

 _I'm going to leave you for another man_. How did one say those words? How did one embellish them to minimize the destructive, soul-crashing effect?

Now he was standing few feet away, talking and laughing with a friend whom he had spied out in the crowd. He had been silent after Usui's appearance at the dinner, but Misaki had noticed the anxious glances, could sense his disquietude in his stiff posture.

Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed a tall figure appearing behind her. Green eyes grazed her form, stopping to rest on the distracted amber orbs on the slightly flushed oval face. He saw her chest rise slightly at the sharp intake of breath when her gaze finally focused on him. He walked forward slowly, approaching her.

From the corner of her eye Misaki saw Hinata terminating his conversation, stepping in to stand by her. Squaring his shoulders, he stood by her in a slightly hovering, possessive stance, his fingers gripping his champagne flute. She turned, bracing herself for the meeting.

"Auyzawa." He nodded his formal greeting after halting in front of her. As his eyes moved to Hinata, his features turned into a mask of disinterested politeness. "Shintani."

Returning his greeting with a quiet "hello", suddenly Misaki noticed a tall redhead woman standing next to him, gazing at the trio expectantly. Her hair pulled up in a tall chignon, her steely blue eyes surveyed her momentarily before turning to rest on Usui.

Meanwhile Usui's gaze had not wavered from her. Smiling slightly, yet maintaining a publicly acceptable expression of casualness, he looked like he was enjoying a private joke to himself.

"This is my assistant, Miss Kate Vidal." He suddenly said in English, gesturing towards the redhead in reverence.

The woman in question grinned, holding out her hand to Hinata and then - her.

"Pleased to meet you. Congratulations, Miss Ayuzawa."

Misaki shuffled on her feet uncomfortably, but did not break the steely eye-contact, shaking her hand in a firm grip.

She realized she knew nothing of Usui's romantic attachments, past or present. The evening before, she had not bothered asking him, not that it had even crossed her mind. Surely though, she thought grimly, it was only natural his romantic life would be rich and passionate. After all, from last night it was evident to her that he had the experience in the matter.

Suddenly she felt the walls closing in on her.

"Thank you. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to the lavatory", she heard herself speak. Her eyes flickered at her partner's worried face for a second.

"I'll come with you.", Kate chirped and casually handed her glass to Usui with a confidential smile. Misaki looked away, biting the inside of her cheek in irritation.

The two women marched off together, leaving Hinata standing facing Usui.

* * *

"So, I see you and the doctor have been acquainted previously?", their eyes met in the bathroom mirror. Misaki could not help but feel slightly intimidated by the woman's dazzling appearance. In her low-cut glittery form-fitting blue dress, she made the activity of washing hands look regal and elegant.

"Yes", she answered curtly, not caring about cordiality.

Screw all this, she thought, she just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. The woman had been giving her pointed looks all the way to the bathroom. Whatever her relationship with Usui, Misaki decided she did not care for the mysterious foreigner.

"Mm", the redhead murmured, holding her gaze in the mirror. Misaki could detect an odd glint in her eyes.

"You know", her voice was oddly melodious, "You are exactly his type."

Misaki shut off the faucet, a sense of dread crawling up her spine. Suddenly not trusting her fluency in English, she looked quizzically at the redhead.

"Excuse me?"

"I've known him for a long time." Slowly, Usui's assistant turned to face her with her full body. She leaned against the counter, her other hand hoisted loosely on her hip. Her posture made her look simultaneously relaxed and hostile. "He always goes for your type."

She casually surveyed her up and down, a ghost of a smirk pulling at her lips nonchalantly.

Misaki felt at loss of words.

"Strong, sharp-featured, dominatrix-type brunettes," she drawled, cocking her head to one side, assessing her. She chuckled under her breath, as if amused by her own description. "He goes out of his way to court them and then ends up leaving them all."

Her smile widened at Misaki's expression, yet her eyes remained cold and calculating.

"Call it commitment issues, if you like. But the point is, I've had a lot of messes to clean up. A lot of hysterical women to calm down."

Her eyes boring into Misaki's, her expression turned serious.

"I can tell there's something between you. Or used to be. Or is beginning to be." She paused to glance at her reflection, smoothing over tendrils of hair that had escaped at the nape of her neck.

"So just take it as a warning, if you will. You wouldn't want to have your reputation...", she paused in deliberate suspense, cocking an elegant eyebrow up as she breathed out, "..damaged."

Misaki felt her hands starting to quiver. Red, burning anger crept up her throat, forming a thick bile she found hard to swallow. She felt slightly nauseous from the alcohol.

She took a paper-towel from the counter, before taking a step forward. Drying her hands, she sealed the distance between them, their faces close.

"You're wrong, Miss Vidal. You see, I'm hardly the type", her voice a low, soft whisper. She pulled a corner of her lips in a one-sided smile.

"I'm the _original_." She breathed out, emphasizing the last word.

She waited for her words to sink in. She felt foolish delivering the dramatic one-liner, but her words seemed to be having the intended effect: the redhead's icy blue eyes turned a shade darker, her mouth tightening in a thin line.

Suddenly the door behind them banged open loudly.

"Ah, there you are, darling!", Misaki's table-companion, the journalist exclaimed. She stopped short, looking quizzically at the two women, whose bodies were still positioned in a subtly combative stance, still staring at each other unblinkingly.

Stepping forward, she placed a palm on Misaki's shoulder in a careful, yet maternal fashion. "I was wondering where you'd gone. You are missing a wonderful performance by that cellist from Kobe."

"Actually, Miss Yokoyama", Misaki turned, her smile turning more sincere as she faced the elderly woman. She leaned down to pull her in an embrace, "I am about to leave. It's been a long day."

She picked up her clutch from the counter.

"Miss Vidal, it's been a pleasure", she nodded at the redhead frozen on her spot and turned towards the door without looking back.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for the reviews! Much appreciated.

 **wardlyman** : I'd rather let the story speak for itself, but you do raise an interesting question there. I think it was clear in the chapter that she was not mad at Usui, but at Usui's assistant who was very rude to her. As for her feelings about Usui's love-life.. I would imagine her to be unaffected by it, let alone angry. You're right, it'd be silly and unrealistic to imagine him staying chaste for ten years, waiting for her to pop his cherry one day. However, that being said, humans are complex and have complex emotions: I would expect Misaki to be as jealous and bothered by the fact that he slept with other women just as he was resentful of the fact that she got together with Hinata. As much as they'd rationalize the situation, as adults would, I think they'd both still feel jealous and possessive, especially after getting back together.

* * *

It was early evening when they finally made it home. Flinging her clutch onto the bed, Misaki grabbed a pair of yoga pants and and a long-sleeved T-shirt, making her way to the bathroom to change.

She had left the luncheon after-party faster than lightening. After her unsavoury encounter with Usui's assistant, she had grabbed Hinata by the arm, who, thankfully, was not standing with Usui any more. He had maneuvered her dizzy form through the crowds, muttering polite apologies and goodbyes as they quietly made their exit.

She found him in the kitchen, making herbal tea, his tie loosened. He cast one glance in her direction, shooting her a tentative smile which she could not return.

Sighing deeply, she slouched onto the couch, her feet propped up on the armrest.

Watching Hinata preparing her drink, sweetening it with a spoonful of sugar as he knew she liked, she was overcome by an odd out-of-body sensation. Who was this man who knew her so well, yet so little?

Eventually he sat down on the edge of the sofa, grazing her side and set her mug of tea on the coffee table. She met his grim expression as he hovered over her.

"How are you feeling?"

She rubbed her eyelids with one hand, avoiding his inquisitive gaze.

"Yeah."

His mouth tightened in an impatient line.

"Misaki..", he inhaled, as if bracing herself, "We should be able to talk about this. I know seeing him there upset you."

He leaned forward to cup her cheek, his brow furrowing when she flinched her face away from the warmth of his hand.

"It's not like that. I'm not upset." She murmured, feeling like a prepubescent kid making excuses to her father.

"Misaki, please. Talk to me".

She could not stand his pleading tone. Sharply turning her head back to look at him dead in the eye, she bit her lip. She wished he was not sitting so close, invading her space.

"You don't understand." She sat up to gain the same eye-level, feeling the need to be in control of the situation as much as she could afford.

"I'm not upset, because I'm not angry with Usui."

She swallowed with difficulty, preparing herself for the truth. _At least some of the truth._

"I know why he left me ten years ago." She paused, letting him take it in. "And I know you're aware of the circumstances, too. Kanou told me you knew all about it." She managed to finish the sentence without blinking away from his intense gaze.

She expected him to be shocked, alarmed but his response took him by surprise. Pale as a sheet, his pupils reduced to the size of a couple of ink-dots.

"You know everything?", he whispered, abashed.

"Yes."

She could see him fighting an inner battle, looking for the right words in his head. Nervously, he licked his lips.

"Misaki.. I'm so sorry. For keeping this a secret from you all these years. But you understand it was for your own safety.."

She smiled sadly at his angst. Poor, conscientious, loyal Hinata.

"It's okay. I know." She interrupted him weakly.

At the back of her head she wondered if this was the right moment to reveal the other truth to him. The terrible truth of her infidelity, of the cruelty she was going to commit.

"I understand if you're angry with me for not being honest with you about this, but you have to know I was against the hypnosis when they.."

She froze. _Hypnosis_?

His sentence trailed off at the sight of her expression. Slowly, she removed her hand from his.

"What did you just say?" A low whisper.

He stared back, wide-eyed.

"You said you knew.. everything". He whispered back, his voice seeping with a mixture of confusion and dread.

Suddenly her eyes stung, the feeling of betrayal making her palms sweat.

"What do you mean _you were against the hypnosis_... What hypnosis?" She leaned forward and tilted his face back to face her.

"Hinata..". The agony and confusion in his eyes mirrored hers.

"Tell me!"

He turned his back to her, burrowing his face in his hands.

She grabbed his forearm, squeezing it in consternation, her voice gone. Tears streamed down her cheeks at the anticipation of his answer, while wishing she would go deaf, brain-dead before she could hear it. She could sense the truth would destroy her, but she had to know.

Taking the mug of tea from the coffee-table, he gulped down the lukewarm liquid, before gazing ahead in distance.

"After Usui left for Britan...", his mouth pursed bitterly as he pronounced his name, "You were not in the best shape for a while."

He glanced at her face to receive confirmation. She looked away, recalling the events reluctantly. The depression, the unexciting first days of college. Her struggle to motivate herself to study, to get through each day. Her worried family.

"For three years, you mourned." His voice broke. "You were inconsolable, Misaki. Even though you got excellent grades in college and seemed to be highly functional as always, everybody noticed you were fading away. We were worried sick."

"Get to the point." She spat out, phlegm making her voice rattle. The bile forming in her stomach made its way up to her throat.

He knelt in front of her. He searched her eyes, pleading her to understand.

"This is why Kanou did what he did. You don't remember any of this, of course.. But he used his skill to make you forget Usui, to stop your suffering."

* * *

She sprang to her feet and ran to the bathroom. He hurried behind her, squatting next to her as she emptied her stomach. Holding her hair, he caressed the nape of her neck, willing her to not cry.

She pulled down the toilet seat and slumped over it, her cheek hot against the cold surface.

He paused, wounded by the sight of her body shaking as she sobbed quietly, bitterly into the palm of her hand. He would have preferred anything to this. He would rather have her slap him, hit him, than see her in the state.

"Did Usui know?" Her strangled whisper broke the silence.

He could not stand the sight, the sound of her voice any more. He crawled to the door, sitting with his back pressed against it. He tilted his head back, gazing at the harsh fluorescent lights on the ceiling.

"It was him all along, Misaki. It was Usui who asked Kanou to hypnotize you."

He heard her gasp, or was it another sob?

"How did he know about me in the first place? Did Kanou report to him?"

He could hear her struggle to regain calmness.

"Partly.. But Kanou did not need to tell him anything." Hinata shut his eyes, pausing.

The teary ambers eyed him warily. She could tell he had arrived at the heart of the matter, the key to the question.

"In your third year of college..you got rejected from an internship. Remember?"

She nodded. Few of her classmates had gotten in, while she had been unapologetically denied the position. Her teachers simply said she had not applied early enough, but Misaki knew it was not true.

"You got rejected, because Duke Rochester pulled some strings. He had found out about your attempts to establish correspondence with Usui.. He read your letters. So, as a warning to Usui, he tried to ruin your chances. His people in Tokyo surveyed all your actions. Acting on the behalf of the duke, they had enormous power and influence.."

He took a deep breath, before continuing. She looked like she was going to be sick again.

"So, Usui got in touch with Kanou and asked him to make you forget him through hypnosis, so that you would stop writing to him and provoking the duke.. Then he cut the ties with his family for good."

"He disowned himself?" She whispered.

He scowled, nodding.

She maintained her position on the floor for a few minutes longer before getting up on her feet.

The skin on her face itched from the dried unwiped tears. She made her way to the sink.

"Leave, please." She seemed weak and haggard, but there was a determined note in her voice which made her sound like herself again. Not arguing, he clumsily erected, shutting the door behind him carefully.

* * *

Returning to the living room, he dropped himself into an armchair, his shoulders square with tension. He sat unmoving, until the golden rays of the sunset filtered through the window trailed across his face, leaving it cold as they dissipated into the dark corner of the room.

Eventually he heard her in the bedroom. The silence was broken by her voice.

"Ayumi?", he could not help overhearing. "This is about Berlin. Tell them I changed my mind.. Great, even better. Tell them I'm accepting."

As she talked on her cellphone, he could hear her fumbling around the bedroom. The sound of the wardrobe opening, something heavy – her suitcase? - being dragged across the floor.

"Never mind why. Just book me the earliest flight.. Please."

He zoned out after that. Losing the sensation of his limbs, an abyss opened at his feet.

He had known the consequences of her finding out the truth. Had he taken advantage of her after she got hypnotized to forget Usui? Of course, he had seized the opportunity. How could he have resisted the temptation? She needed comfort, and he, well, he had needed her for as long as he could remember.

For years he had justified himself by refusing to correlate the occurrences of her getting hypnotized by Kanou and him making a move on her as two separate events. He refused to admit to himself that he had found a place in her heart _because_ it had been left vacuous and raw, her feelings for Usui having been aborted from it forcefully. He had done everything to make her genuinely fall in love with him and hoped that perhaps eventually, her feelings for him would be as real as they had been for Usui.

As he listened to the sound of her unzipping the suitcase, however, he knew; he had known since he had found out about Usui's return, since he had witnessed them exchanging glances at the luncheon: the spell was broken.


	11. Chapter 11

Usui's features tightened as he paused at the door of her office. He clenched and unclenched his hands, feeling oddly ill-at-ease.

She had called him early in the morning. His warm greeting on the phone was dissipated by her matter-to-fact, hurried speech. All she said was she needed to talk to him urgently and that she would be in her office around the noon. She also mentioned - off handedly - that her secretary would not be in for the day and he could thus simply let himself in once he got there.

He knocked once on the white door, before pushing it open.

The brightness of the office cut at his eyes like a knife and he was blinded for a moment, making out only a vague outline of a female figure.

His eyes focusing, he drank in her image as she approached.

Her clothing made him realize that perhaps his hunch had been correct: a black form-hugging turtle-neck sweater enveloped her long neck like a fortress, a shield around her elegant, unmade-up features. The somewhat messy, high chignon revealed the whiteness of her neck, where the exposed soft skin was skimmed by the long skinny silver earrings.

Everything about her fuelled his desire, yet it was unmistakable to him that she was attired for a battle.

She halted in front of him, her hands down the pockets of her charcoal gray slacks. She gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, as if seeing him for the first time.

As her eyes locked with his, he was overcome with the familiar feeling, like she was reaching inside his soul and strumming the most ancient, secret chords. He had to remind himself to breathe.

His unease increased when she spoke in the voice she always used whenever something weighed on her mind.

"Thank you for coming."

With her head she silently motioned him towards the armchair across her desk. As she walked away from him, the scent of her perfume washed over him. Something icy, yet flavourful and biting.

He looked around, curious about her workplace. The office was in different shades of white, in minimalist decor. There was a framed photo on her desk, turned sideways. As he sat across her, his legs stretching out in font of him to simulate a relaxed demeanor vis-a-vis her apprehension, he caught a glimpse of the photograph. It was her with her sister, both laughing at the camera. He longed to see her relaxed and happy like that in his presence.

He tore his eyes from the frame to glance up at her.

"Tonight I'm flying to Berlin, Usui."

He laughed. He did this, whenever he was taken aback, confused or angry. His brother had often made fun of the habit.

As numbness overcome his body, he was suddenly grateful for the presence of the large desk between them. Too strong was the urge to hurl himself over it, grab her by her shoulders and shake her, get inside that head, get down to the root of her mood-swings.

"I was here when you turned down the offer." He kept his voice even. His shrewd eyes dared her to recollect the events of the evening.

She met his bold gaze unwaveringly. If anything, her eyelids tightened even further.

"I changed my mind. I'm going."

Unable to trust his voice any more, he glared ahead, waiting.

"When I'm back," she continued, her voice flat and dry, "when I'm back, I will help you get your inheritance back."

She observed astutely as he slanted his eyes at her, playing that mind-poker again. Yet his thought-process was so transparent to her now - obviously wondering how much of the truth she knew. Had he not played the very same game in his hotel suit the other evening during her first visit?

Looking at him now, with the collar of his half-zipper black sweater flaring around his head, looking deviously tempting and dangerous as ever, she applauded herself for setting the appointment in the neutral, sterile setting of her office.

Now he seemed surprised, but not unsettled. It was odd, she thought, how two days ago they had unfolded the deepest desires and secrets of each other's bodies, and yet here were they now - two black-clad figures examining each other like two predator animals about to pounce.

"Now, that is not my field in law, of course", she resumed her speech smoothly, having given him time to recover after her disclosure, "but I have many connections. And I'm confident I can manoevre the case from behind the curtains, especially if I approach it as violation of human rights and well, freedom." The piercing glare she shot him hinted at their double meaning.

"You talked with Kanou again?" The question came out quietly, not giving an ounce of a reaction to her proposition.

"That doesn't matter." She snapped hoarsely.

She bit her lip, regretting.

"The point is", she got up, turning her back to him to gaze out of the large glass window. In her pockets she dug her nails into her thighs through the light lining, trying to regain the composure. "Tit for tat. You will reclaim what's yours. Considering that I was the direct cause of your misfortune, it's only fair that I help you."

"Misaki".

She turned reluctantly, facing him as he got up on his feet. He looked at her from across her desk, his eyes impossibly bright from the light.

"Don't you refer to yourself as my _misfortune_." Almost like a threat, his voice sounded impossibly low.

"After I help you reclaim your inheritance, I'll be out of your debt, Usui."

"Stop it".

Her lips tightened at his tone, refusing to be intimidated. Not now.

"Don't think I'm doing this on your behalf." She chirped in faux-cheerful tone, flashing him a bright, yet dangerous smile. Turning to pace slowly alongside the window, her shoulders haunched over slightly. "I'm doing this for me as much for you."

"I need to prove to myself that all this has been worth it." Her voice lowering, a shadow of anger surfaced in her voice. She approached the desk, halting before him.

"You see, when you reclaim your money, I will regain my dignity. I need to secure it for myself, cement it down to ensure that no hypnotist in the world can rip it off me again."

With bitter delight, she saw him freeze in the spot.

"I'm not going to apologize for it." The obstinate admission finally broke the heavy silence.

She eyed him coldly, leaning her backside against the desk, not minding the slight loss of height. Now that the whole truth was finally out, she did not feel the need to stand as tall as him. When she spoke, her tone matched his.

"And I'm not going to thank you for it."

He blinked, before letting out a small laugh again. With one hand he brushed through his hair, betraying his exasperation.

"I think I have already told you before, Misaki, that hypnotism only works on one condition." He leaned in slightly, towering over her. His breath fanned her face as he enunciated her name.

Softly, she grabbed the edge of the table at her sides, resisting the urge to escape from the space he was invading. At his words the flood of memories caused her breath to hitch.

She remembered the sleepless night, sitting on the stairs at the rooftop of the school-building, desperately fighting off slumber. The splashing rain. Usui murmuring sweet nothings while he stroked her head, trying to keep her awake.

His voice shook her out of her reverie.

"It only works if the.. victim", he said, cocking an eyebrow provocatively, "if the the victim believes in at least some part of it." The slight frown between his eyebrows betrayed him, exposing the fraudulence of his acidic smile.

He paused, his smile receding before he spoke again.

"When I asked Kanou to destroy your feelings for me, I wished it would not work." He exhaled with difficulty, having voiced out the thought that had been festering in his heart for a decade.

"When I learnt that it did work, that your feelings for me did vanish, I had to come to terms with the fact that you did want me out of your life after all."

She flushed with anger.

"Of course I wanted you out of my fucking life." She spat out. "Of course I wanted it to stop hurting. Why do you think the whole thing with Hinata.."

His eyes blazed at the mention of Hinata's name.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not mad about Shintani", he barked out laughingly, yet the lines between his eyes deepened. "On the contrary, I'm grateful to him for _training_ you so well in things that matter..."

Her hand flew to slap him, but he caught it just before it reached his cheek.

Hazel dots tinted her amber eyes, as it happened whenever they filled with tears.

Cursing under his breath, he pulled her by the wrist, trying to embrace her, get the pained expression out of the field of his vision, out of his mind.

"Get off me!"

She shoved his face away violently with her free hand. His head snapped aside from the impact. He stepped back, feeling the sting, but not bothering to wipe the blood away.

Realizing what she had done, a sharp gasp escaped her throat. Few flecks of blood oozed out of a small cut on his jaw. A long fingernail had accidentally scratched the skin when she had pushed his face.

She stood frozen, her eyes wide with tears. She touched his face, yet not daring to meet his eye.

"Oh god," she pulled a sleeve down over her hand to dab at the wound, smudging the reddness. "I'm sorry".

"I'm so sorry". Frantically she tried to stop the trickle of blood as he stood motionless, his downcast eyes unreadable. The ball of emotions strangling at her throat erupted in a single sob. Her limp hand fell from his jaw helplessly to her side.

As she came apart, he cradled her head, murmuring something unintelligible in her ear.

He finally spoke, when her sobs quieted down.

"It broke me in half, doing that to you.. Letting you go."

She clutched his sweater in a ball of fist at his back.

"I know." She whispered.

Holding her close, he stepped backtracked to stumble down onto the armchair with her nestled on his lap. Burrowing his face into the crook of her throat, he nuzzled her there with his nose.

"Do you really have to go to Berlin?"

She stroked his cheek, nodding. He understood her need to remove herself from everything, to think and re-evaluate her life. He could only hope he would have a place in it after her mind would be made up.

She looked at him searchingly, finding the reluctant understanding in his expressive gaze.

"If the Berlin case is successful, my competence as a lawyer will have increased considerably, Usui." Her sad smile was in stark contrast with her words. "Which will increase the chances of winning your case, after I return."

"I have not yet agreed on letting you take my case." His hand stroked a trail from her hip to the underside of her breast, making his perfectly innocent words come across as suggestive. He could not help it. He knew this was not the right time to touch her like that, but the proximity of her body worked like a narcotic on him.

"I cannot allow myself to love you unless we're equal.. Takumi." She whispered against his cheek, before planting a careful kiss on the slightly swollen slit on his jaw.

Hugging her tighter, he gazed into her eyes. Her eyelashes still glistened with tears from earlier.

" _Will_ you return?"

The fear in his voice made her break the eye-contact to cradle his head again, burying her chin in the blond locks.

She knew what he was really asking. _Will you come back to me?_

She inhaled the unique scent of his scalp. Sweet and musky. Closing her eyes, she threaded her fingers through the sandy tresses, pulling them slightly in consent.

* * *

The End


	12. Epilogue

**Usui's POV**

I could be on the rooftop, relaxing in the sunlight away from all the noise and humdrum.

Instead I'm strolling aimlessly again, not for the first time in the past two weeks.

The dirt beneath my feet makes a rhythmic sound as my legs pull me forward on their own accord. Where am I going?

My brain feels so numb and overheated. Like waking up groggy and disoriented after falling asleep outdoors under the sun in summer .

It seems lately my body has grown a mind of its own. Which is no surprise, given my latest fascination. I can't help but smile, the enticing maid costume flashing in my head again.

Shit.

Better change the subject. Think of something else, Takumi, or else someone might notice. I put my hands in my pockets, subtly pushing the fabric of my trousers forward forb camouflage. This is so goddamn annoying. _I'm_ annoying.

I suppose at my age it's not strange to get random boners here and there. Well, hardly random though. More like every day, before falling asleep, upon waking up, in the shower, in the classroom, on the public transport, in the maid cafe. _Especially_ in the maid cafe.

No wonder. She's always on my mind. For some reason, she's everywhere I go.

I just need to relax, perhaps. After all I'm sixteen and healthy. I've met a girl I'm very – extremely – attracted to.

Except I've begun feeling uneasy. Lost – although I'm right where I need to be. Short of breath, even though I'm not running. Wary – I don't know of what.

But the worst of all is this excrutiating feeling of longing, similar to homesickness. This gut-wrenching, physically painful desire to belong someplace. I've never had that desire, perhaps due to my childhood. I've never felt much affection for my parents. I'm perfectly happy on my own.

I really need to stop overanalyzing something that's so simple, really: I want her, because I can't have her. The saying "you want what you can't have" has never been truer. I know I pine for her because of her attitude towards me. She doesn't even like me – she tolerates me. I piss her off. For now, anyway, a dark voice whispers in my head. I hope nobody's around to see me smirking to myself like this.

Woah.

A girl just jumped out of the bushes, facing me. So that's what the rustling sound earlier was about. Do I know her?

I halt, eyeing her expectantly, although knowing already what's coming.

Let her finish what she has to say, then turn it down gently, I think to myself. But I can't even listen to her flustered speech, as my attention is distracted by a commotion on my left.

I groan internally. There she is again, crossing my path. She's waving her arms while scolding some clowning freshman in the school library. Keeping up her demon kaichou reputation.

Look at the girl while she's talking to you, you jerk. It's only polite. But I can't take my eyes off the scene playing out in the library, off her.

Oh shit. Suddenly the stairs flipped. My heart stopping, I inhale sharply. I panic inside, knowing there is nothing I can do from where I'm standing. It's falling right on top of her, she's going to get hurt.

I hear a loud bang, as her arm stops the stair midway in the air, catching the boy with the other arm.

My throat is dry, my palms sweaty.

And suddenly it hits me.

I turn to the girl and sputter some nonsense of a rejection half-baked by my brain, still shocked by the sudden realization.

Feeling light on my feet, I hurry to the building to find her, to check on her injured arm. Knowing her, she's completely disregarding it, probably in the process of saving someone else right now.

As I walk on a strong gust of wind blows warm sand into my face. An unspeakable emotion closes up my throat and I shut my eyes in pain, as suddenly, a line from a book resounds in my head.

" _An intense love, a veritable tornado sweeping across the plains—flattening everything in its path, tossing things up in the air, ripping them to shreds, crushing them to bits.._ "

I swallow with difficulty.

So much for staying out of trouble.

But at least, finally, I understand now.

It's not that she's everywhere I go. It's me who's always looking for her, searching her out among the crowd, going where I hope she'll be.

I've been like a tiny rock that helplessly orbits around a planet on a continuous loop.

My hands are in fists in my pockets, but I feel calm all of a sudden.

A perfect harmony. A sense of purpose.

I don't want to keep gravitating around her like a tiny space rock.

I want to crash onto her like an asteroid, burn through the atmosphere, fast and heavy. Just the way I fell in love with her.

* * *

 **Author's note**

The quote is from Sputnik Sweetheart, Haruki Murakami (which I obviously do not own).

I know you were expecting the epilogue to be a wrap-up of the main plot, but I'm simply not good at happy endings (although the ending of this story is by no means unhappy). I do like happy endings when they're well written, but I simply can't write one without feeling fake and corny.

The scene in the epilogue is from the 4th (or the 3rd?) episode of the anime. Remember? I always thought that was the moment when Usui realized he'd fallen for Misaki. Hence the avatar pic of the story! *wink*

Thank you so much for reading Loyalties, everyone!

I have a new story up my sleeve, so look out!

Peace.


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